The Circle
by Lilmissperfect
Summary: I previously published this one...now it is back with some of the errors corrected. "What if Voldemort is not what he seems?" My take on a well-trampled topic. PLEASE R/R!!!


**The Circle**

**Part One**

_"Round and round the circle goes_

_Where it stops, nobody knows_

_Round and round the circle goes_

_Where it ends, nobody knows"_

Something had been bothering him for the past couple of days. No, it had always bothered him, but this past week, it had grown more persistent, like a bee buzzing 'round his head.   
  
"You can't keep doing this forever, Voldemort! You can't keep me locked up in here forever!" The man in his head cried over and over. "Oh shut up, Tom! I have complete control over you, always have, always will! No one needs to know that you're locked up inside your own body-oh- it's my body now!" He jeered at the voice in his head.  
  
In the beginning, Tom had been a hard one to take over. He was a strong one, did not bend as easily to the creature's will as all the others before him had. Yes, they were always weak; they always bowed to him sooner or later. Every time his host body would die, he would drift out of the expired host and find a new one to conquer. This vicious cycle had continued for more than a thousand years in the wizarding world. He always chose a different name for himself, and he would always make sure that the outside world never knew that it wasn't the victim that was doing the horrible deeds. The few that discovered this were disposed of. The Potters were the ones that knew the most, and told all their Ministry friends.   
  
He had killed all of them, of course. He did what had to be done.  
  
But then there was the little one, the son, Harry. Now he had the real makings of a good host. The "good" wizards feed him bad things about Voldemort over the years, but he would change Harry's mind in time.  
  
It had been hard all these years, pretending to try and kill him. And then there was the fact that he really wanted to kill the boy, but he wasn't able to. It was not a matter of power, he was just trying to scare the lad into submission. Voldemort figured if he terrified him enough, he'd be easier to conquer in the end.  
  
"Voldemort, That's a nice name. Means "flight from death" in French." Voldemort remembered that conversation he had with Tom during his 2nd year. Yes, he had been with Tom even then, but not of full strength. He remembered stumbling upon the name in a twelfth century textbook. It had a nice ring to it, and was creepy enough to inspire fear among the people. He couldn't very well be called "The Bunny Man" or "The Scone of Terror" now could he? He laughed bitterly, and he felt Tom's soul inside him shudder.   
  
Voldemort smiled, it was only a matter of time. He was growing stronger every day.  
  
Voldemort remembered Tom's revulsion at killing that first rat. Ooh, the lust for the kill! There was nothing like it in the world! Zapping the life out of something, watching it grow limp, seeing the fear on it's face...  
  
"You're just as weak as anything else!" Tom screamed, although a bit shakier than before. The vibrations of his voice rattled around in Voldemort's head incessantly. "Tom, you're giving me a headache!" He snarled at the incessant soul inside him. "You'll go down in the end - I'll be laughing at you in Hell, you fucker!" Tom swore. Voldemort growled, "you stupid, stupid boy, don't you get it yet? You'll never beat me, you'll never escape, so deal with it! We're friends for life, remember? Well, for your life at least." Voldemort rolled his eyes. After all those years of Tom's crap, he was starting to get quite annoying.   
  
"Tommy boy, you know what the punishment is for talking back to Uncle Voldie..." He snickered joyfully at the screams resounding in his head. "Oh yes, boy..." Over the years he had devised a way to perform the Cruciatus Curse so it affected only his host and not him. It helped to...er...knock the old spirit back a few notches every once and awhile.  
  
"Oh great master, I humbly bring before you the boy, Harry Potter!" Peter Pettigrew squeaked, a note of pride in his voice as he turned over his prize to his master. "Why thank you, Pettigrew." Voldemort said snidely. "Oh, you're welcome, master..." He turned his cold gaze over to the young man, who stood defiant, yet scared shitless against him. Oh yes, Harry had grown into a fine man, he was what? Twenty now? Twenty years... He had long since graduated from Hogwarts and moved away from its protection. Such a stupid boy. So strong, yet ever so naive. "Aproach and kneel before me!" Voldemort spoke softly, a warning undertone in his voice. Potter struggled against his shackles, screaming. "You'll never get away with this, you bloody bastard!" Harry screamed. Voldemort noted with pleasure the slighly panicked tone his voice took. This might be easier than he thought. Fear just made it easier for him to kill. It was the ones that didn't fear him that were difficult. Maybe that was why he couldn't kill the baby Harry. He was too young to be scared, to know the evil that almost possessed, no WILL possess him.  
  
"You and I can do great things, if you only allow me to...we would make a great team, you and I." Voldemort whispered. Harry sent a wicked glare in Voldemort's direction. "I can read your thoughts..." Voldemort said. "I know about your fantasies, your desires, your...fears..." He trailed off. He could feel the man start to doubt...oh yes...he fed on doubt and fear and negativity...he could almost taste him...taste the victory of the one conquest that he could never match, he would never need to inhabit another body again. But what was that annoying tugging sensation from the back of his head? It almost felt like someone...or something, was trying to overpower him. All of a sudden, he couldn't control the body, it was HIS body now, damn it! "Harry!! You have to get out of here! Trust me!" Tom's voice rang out of Voldemort's mouth. Harry stiffened. "Who...or what ARE you?" He asked cautiously. "It's To-" Voldemort regained control. "It's NOBODY!" He screamed. Harry backed away slightly, and Pettigrew hesitantly pushed him back forward.   
  
"Tom! Don't you ever do that again!!" Voldemort howled at Tom telepathically. "And what can you do? Kick me out of my own body?" Voldemort laughed evilly. "No...but I can make you wish I had...CRUCIO!!" Voldemort found the screams satisfying. After all, they all fold in the end.  
  
"Potter! Kneel before me!" He commanded. Harry stood firm. "I said KNEEL POTTER! IMPERIO!" Harry stood his ground. "Why isn't it working?" He asked, a slightly panicked tone to his voice. Tom's screams in the background didn't help much. "Oh, I forgot about you!" He said mockingly, and undid the curse. Tom gasped for air. "I still haven't gotten used to that." Tom thought, in anguish.   
  
Voldemort decided to try another approach, he was going to get to this man if it was the last thing he did! "I know about Hermione, she's with Ron right now... they're in the middle of doing...something...that they don't want you to know about..." Harry tensed up. "How would you know?" He snarled. "Because, Dear Boy, I know everything..." Harry sent another bone chilling glare in his direction. "I'm not a bloody BOY!" He spat. Voldemort laughed- if such a creature can laugh. It sent chills up both Harry and Pettigrew's spines, it was utterly and completely evil.

_ to be continued..._


End file.
